CHAPTER 58 #2
“To that old hag!” he snaps.
“What was I supposed to say? I was in shock!” I snap back. “You think I want to get married against my will? No!”
“You could've been yourself and told her to go fuck herself!” A beat passes, and his eyes begin to glow. “You can't let them take you away from me.”
He cups my cheeks and leans in, his forehead dropping against mine, breathing heavily.
The lights abruptly cut out.
The only thing I can see is the eerie glow of his eyes.
A hand—his—shifts and clamps around my upper arm and pulls me flush against his chest.
One hand settles between my shoulder blades while the other slides back to the nape of my neck.
He doesn't say a word.
He just holds me, my ear pressed against his heartbeat.
I can feel his chest rise and fall with every breath.
“Guards are coming,” he whispers. “Stay behind me and don’t fucking interfere.”
I hear shouts and the rapid thud of footsteps racing toward us.
Evren shoves me behind him.
The lights snap back on just as a squad of armed guards rounds the corner.
“Don't move!” one of them shouts, leveling his weapon at us. “Hands in the air!”
I obey instantly and glance at Evren.
He isn't going to do it, I know he won't.
But a small part of me still hopes he won't escalate this.
“Or what?” His voice is calm, almost amused, openly taunting the guard.
I sigh.
Of course.
Another guard steps forward and looks down at the device.
“What is this?”
And before I can shut my mouth.
“Your dick.” I answer flatly.
Evren shoots me a look that clearly says shut the fuck up.
The guard's eyes darken, and he swings his weapon toward my head.
“You think this is funny?”
I don’t even have time to answer, before Evren moves.
His hand shoots out, seizing the barrel of the rifle.
In the same motion, he rips it from the guard's grip and slams the stock into the man's nose.
The others react instantly and open fire, I yelp in horror and dive to the floor, covering my head.
I can't see what's happening but I can hear it—Evren's laughter, bones snapping, cries of pain, bullets tearing into the walls.
“Don't.” A heavy thud. “Point.” Another impact, followed by a sharp gasp. “Your gun.” A strangled gurgle. “At what's mine.”
A sharp crack echoes through the corridor.
Then silence.
Only ragged breathing probably his and my own trembling breaths.
“Get your ass up, Riven,” he says, his breathing heavy. “You're going to get dirt on your dress, and if anyone's going to make a mess of it, I'd rather it be me.”
I slowly lift my head and see his hand extended toward me.
I raise my own and take it, he pulls me to my feet.
Then his hands begin traveling over my face, then the rest of my body through the fabric of my dress.
He turns me around, lifts my hair off my back, then hikes up the skirt of my dress.
“What are you doing?” I ask, tilting my head.
“What does it look like?” He sighs. “I'm checking if you've been shot.”
“I haven't.”
He keeps one hand cupping my jaw while the other drifts down to his thigh.
My eyes narrow as I follow the movement.
Realization hits me instantly, he's been shot.
I slap his hand away, grab a handful of my skirt, and hike it up until I have enough fabric.
I bring the hem to my mouth and tear it.
Riiip.
“The fuck are you doing?” he growls.
“You've been shot.” I test the strip's length.
“I don't feel it.” He pauses, his eyes hardening with an emotion I can't quite read. “You're ripping up a dress that probably cost more than my car... and I was planning on tearing it off myself.”
“Deal with it.” I roll my eyes.
I fold the strip in half, wrap it tightly around his thigh above the wound, knot it, and pull it tight to make a tourniquet.
I step back satisfied and walk around, most of them are knocked out or dead.
Pools of blood spread under some of them, I carefully step over it.
“Ren’s got the file?” I ask.
“He got multiple ones,” He follows me, “still a few hours before he finds your brother’s, if he got it right.”
I crouch and tilt my head examining one of their weapons
I press a button.
A mechanical whir hums through the rifle, and its body begins glowing purple.
“What does this do?” I ask, genuinely curious with a hint of excitement.
I know I should not take a weapon
“What the—” He shakes his head “Just don’t fucking touch it. It's probably some kind of high-powered firing mode.”
He sighs
“You're a walking disaster.”
I gasp dramatically.
“You're the one talking!” I laugh softly. “Fine, I'm a disaster, but you're a psychopath who laughs while killing people.”
He shrugs dismissively, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeah. So what? You still let me fuck you.”
He winks.
“Disgusting motherfu—”
He suddenly screams, his eyes becoming murderous.
“Riven!”
Crack.
I don’t have time to process anything as something slams into the side of my head.
My vision snaps sideways as a sharp, piercing ring explodes through my ears.
The force hurls me across the corridor, I crash into the wall, every bit of air blasted from my lungs.
I cough violently, struggling to breathe again.
How am I still alive? What just happened to me?
A guttural roar cuts through the piercing ring in my ears.
My vision swims, I barely make out shapes. There are two shapes, one smaller than the other.
The two shapes clash.
The smaller one is hurled across the floor, only to lunge forward again, throwing punch after punch.
The larger one barely reacts, either tanking the blows or effortlessly slipping out of the way.
The smaller silhouette is him, I can just make out the black suit.
The larger one, that's the man who just hit me.
I push myself up on shaking arms, gasping, and manage to get to my feet with the help of the wall.
My vision clears just enough for me to see what is happening.
The man has Evren by the throat, strangling him with bionic arms, clearly from the Central Authority elite guard.
Evren was already wounded by whatever fight he got into before the ball and he just got shot.
Evren wrestles with his hands, trying to tear them off him—or break every bone in them.
From where I am, I can't make out exactly what's happening. I only know he is fighting for his life.
I should leave.
I should not care at all.
It’s just a partnership, a deal.
Instead, seeing Evren in that position twists my heart in a way I don't want to understand why.
I move before I can even think.
I stumble, trip over the bodies littering the corridor, and grab the very rifle Evren told me to not touch moments ago.
I sway on my feet, my vision is still blurred. I can't shoot, I could hit Evren or someone else.
I sprint toward them instead and, with a scream, swing the rifle like a club.
The stock cracks against the guard's head, jerking sideways.
But he doesn't let go.
Evren's face is already turning red, his eyes bloodshot. It's like staring into a mirror. Exactly what Liam did to me.
Panic floods me so I keep swinging.
Again.
And again.
But the man is a mountain, and after the hit that sent me flying across the corridor, it's like watching a two-year-old try to fight an adult.
“Let him go!” I scream.
He doesn't.
My heartbeat pounds in my ears.
Nothing works, what should I do? What—
I fold down, grab one of my stilettos, take a step to face him, driving it back, and swing with my eyes squeezed shut.
Heel first.
Something gives with a sickening, wet sound, as it sinks in far too easily.
I grimace at the feeling.
The man screams.
I open my eyes, my heel is buried in his eye.
Evren coughs violently, slumping on the floor, dragging air back into his lungs, forcing himself to move.
“E-Evren…”
He doesn't even look at me, pushes himself up and stalks, swinging toward the staggering guard.
With a sweep of his leg, he knocks the man flat onto his back.
Evren straddles his chest, grabs my heel, yanks it free then brings it down again.
And again.
And again.
He doesn't stop, the sight is horrifying.
The guard tries to throw him off, then to shield himself, but every strike weakens him further, plus Evren is too far gone to stop.
Wet impacts echo through the corridor, blood splashes across the floor.
Across Evren’s face and suit, across me.
I'm horrified by what I'm witnessing but even more by what I did.
I protected him, I saved him. I drove my heel into a man's eye for him.
I…I stabbed someone in the eye.
A knot twists violently in my stomach, I turn away, unable to watch another second.
The sounds continue for a full minute before they finally stop.
I hear my heel hit the floor then Evren's ragged breathing.
Fast footsteps close the distance behind me, hands grab my shoulders and spin me around.
“Riven.” he exhales, saying my name like he's been holding his breath.
He looks like death covered in blood—his own, the guards.
I tremble beneath his hands.
I just stare blankly at the far wall behind Evren.
I've never hurt anyone like this before, I've never driven my own heel into someone's eye.
I don't know how to process it.
“Riven, look at me!” he shouts.
My mind begins to drift away.
Everything feels distant, as though the world has been sealed behind thick glass.
Even the pain from the blow that sent me flying fades into the background.
Evren's hands slide from my shoulders to my cheeks, forcing my head up so I'll look at him.
But right now, he's nothing more than a blurred face in a muted world.
The ball is still going on somewhere beyond these walls, the music, laughter, conversations.
It all feels unreal against the blood-soaked silence of this corridor.
His hands slide back to my shoulders.
“Fucking snap out of it!” He shakes me.
The shake does a little to me, it reminds me of what I just did.
“E-Evren...” I whisper. “I-I stabbed...” My voice is shaking.
“I know.” His hand shifts and tightens around my jaw. “Look at me. Breathe. If I have to rip your heart out just to squeeze the panic out of it, then shove it back into your chest, I fucking will.”
The feeling of my heel sinking into his eye...I can't.
I feel the panic attack crashing over me, my breathing turns shallow and frantic.